Forged in Fire
by jaibhagwan
Summary: "But the truth he knew; she was forged in fire, and thus, too strong to break. Maybe someday she would see."
1. Act I

_"Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow." ~ William Shakespeare, Romeo & Juliet_

It started the way all good things did between them. It started with a meal. "The Last Supper," Carol called it, to lighten the tension that had crept between them the night Daryl found her in the house she fled to outside the Kingdom. It wasn't truly the beginning; their story began long ago on a crowded highway in Atlanta, just as the world was coming to an end. But in that small candlelit house, somewhere in the Virginia countryside, it was the beginning of a new chapter, even though to Daryl and Carol, it felt like another ending.

Feeding him was the way she had always taken care of him; the routine brought some sense of normalcy to the awkwardness that had returned. They ate in silence which they sometimes did, especially during that first winter on the road together. Candlelight shimmered around them.

"You always make it taste good," Daryl complimented her after he finished his last bite of the rabbit stew. "I'm gonna miss that." His lips turned up halfway into a shy, melancholic smile when she looked up at him.

Stretching her arm across the table, she rested her hand on his, expressing her gratitude. They sat there for a moment, unmoving as a wistful silence bloomed. Daryl felt the warmth from her hand sink into his bones and wondered if he would ever see her again. As the fear gripped him, he turned his palm over to meet hers and slowly let his fingers slide along hers until their hands fit together.

Fit together. That's exactly what he always felt; somehow she fit him perfectly and made everything easier. Carol understood him as he had come to understand her. He watched her back when she stuck her neck out too far; she reined him in when he bridled. They took care of each other in a way no one ever had. They made a good team. They were partners. His heart sank from the way it sat on him. It seemed strange and sad that he was only now willing to admit that just as he needed to let her go. Others were depending on him. He had to return to Alexandria to help Rick and Maggie fight the Saviors and end their reign of terror. Daryl wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't. Not when he could help do something about it. Especially after what they lost, after what Negan had done to them.

The fire crackled behind him as Daryl looked at Carol, knowing they didn't have much time left, unsure he could tell her all that he felt about her, what she meant to him, and have it all make a lick of sense. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to be safe. That's why he lied to her, told her everything was fine when it was far from it. The truth would have devastated her—at least that's what she led him to believe. But the truth he knew; she was forged in fire, and thus, too strong to break. Maybe someday she would see.

It was quite enchanting how her blue eyes gleamed with a tender-hearted brilliance and made him forget himself. Light and shadow danced across her face as he committed to memory every freckle and line on it. Her graying hair had grown another inch since he'd seen her. It suited her, he thought to himself, the casual way she wore it. Beneath his hand, her skin was soft, but her fingertips were toughened with callouses from all her hard work. His heart ached that she wanted to do it all alone now. Daryl absorbed her, until he started to leak. He wanted to remember everything about her.

Daryl was staring at her as if he wanted to say something, his eyes a watery blue that made her feel like she was treading water. She felt his thumb gently rub against the back of her hand like he was tossing her a lifeline. Now that they were here, Carol found she wasn't prepared to say goodbye to this man who had saved her life, but knew it was coming soon. Sooner than she'd like, and she was the one who had asked to be left alone.

As the moment marched on, his gaze saddened; she knew that goodbyes were hard for him, but what she had done to him was worse. She had left him, disappeared into the night without so much as a word after they'd buried Denise. Carol knew how much she had hurt him when he showed up at her door, drooping like a kicked dog. Broken. Hesitant. It was in his voice; she had broken his heart after all that time she had spent helping him put it back together. She was cruel; all the more reason she needed to stay away. She couldn't hurt him again.

She couldn't look away, either. Every part of herself was holding on, incapable of letting go. How did one let go of someone so essential? Someone who had shaped her into the woman she had always wanted to be, a woman she had nearly been. A woman of honor. Daryl had taught her she could become the rescuer she always dreamed of; she could save herself—until she couldn't. Until she couldn't save anyone. Carol didn't want this moment to end. Nor say goodbye to the one person to whom she owed everything. The one person who made her believe. His fingers felt like rough cotton against her skin. Letting it soothe her, she let her fingers ghost across his hand in return.

The motion of her fingers summoned him from his spell. His hand relaxed and he released his grip on her, trailing his hand up her wrist to rest on her forearm, his fingers still caressing her skin as they remained entranced. Again, she mimicked his action, letting her hand slide up his arm as if drawn by a magnet. Their eyes were locked on each other; neither capable of looking away; between them an irresistible force was building, expanding, holding them there. The energy surged, crackling and sparking as it strengthened, powerfully pulling them closer. Crystalline and glistening, her eyes were such an unfathomable blue, Daryl felt himself suddenly falling forward until he was stumbling on his feet, shattering the distance between them, kissing her awkwardly on the lips.

Her hands raised to his face automatically, holding him against her. His first kiss languished and became more steady, as if he had been reassured it was welcomed simply by her touch. It was a chaste kiss, but full of yearning. Their lips fused as they lingered together.

Slowly, he drew away to catch his breath. Her eyes were damp, troubling him. He couldn't believe this was the end; it was unfair. There was still so much she needed to know. He kissed her again, angrily, heaving her from her seat as if to wrench the sorrow from her.

His hands at her waist, his kiss grew desperate as he felt the minutes slipping by. Everything he wanted to say, everything he felt, he poured from his lips, needing her to know.

Before she realized what was happening, her body was responding to him, bending, yielding, opening, and she parted her lips, letting his tentative tongue find hers. Soon, her fingers were twining in his hair; she tugged at his locks, drawing him nearer as the kiss swelled. His hands slipped behind her back, lifting her off her heels as he pressed her closer, and she quivered with an electric tingle that ran down to her toes. The ache in the core of her being grew as she discovered how much she needed this man.

The kiss turned salty and Daryl knew she was crying. Leaning against the table and drawing her between his legs, he enclosed her in his embrace, wanting to protect her, wanting her to know his anguish, wanting to feel her as close as possible. It was his last chance; his despair was clawing at him from the inside, tightening, constricting, binding him to her. Meanwhile, her arms were clinging to him, her hands gripping at the collar of his shirt as her tongue explored his.

Unexpectedly, Carol stepped back, eyes dark and breathing hard, removing first her outer denim shirt, then after a pause, she pulled the gray t-shirt over her head, revealing the pale and freckled skin beneath. Daryl stared at her eyes in disbelief and then seemed to find the courage to let his slide down to the lacy black bra she was wearing. His heart was hammering in his chest. She took his hand, and placed it on her breast over her bra, urging him to touch her. The textured fabric was rough under his fingers compared to the delicate skin of her breast. The contrast felt strange and invigorating at the same time. He looked at her with awe and wonder.

Keeping her gaze, he daringly let his finger slip slowly under the fabric and across her rounded flesh until it brushed against her nipple. She closed her eyes and moaned as he drew a slow circle around it and felt it stiffen. Her reaction enticed him, rousing him. Crooking his finger, he pulled at the fabric of the bra, making her step closer to him.

Carol opened her eyes again, straight into his molten gaze. His hungry lips ravaged hers, while his hands roamed the smooth skin on her back. Tasting him, being surrounded by his arms, feeling the power and strength of his embrace, his passion, she felt desired and wanted more.

He felt her fingers working on the buttons of his shirt and he stopped, his breath was fast and shallow as he watched her, his jaw went slack. He began to melt, sinking downwards, captivated by the tender way her fingers brushed against him. Soft as a feather, she kissed his collarbone and let her gentle fingers splay across his chest and drift up to his shoulders before pushing the shirt over them and down his arms, letting it fall to the table. She kissed his chest, his neck, slowly making her way to his lips. The feeling of her touching him was better than he ever dared to imagine.

His kiss became lazy, less certain. The heat from her skin was sweltering, he felt feverish. Suddenly breaking the kiss, he grabbed her wrists lightly and tugged them away from where she was caressing him.

"Carol…" He sought her eyes. They were filled with grief and desire. Holding her gaze, he tried to make her understand. "We can't."

Her eyebrows pinched together in confusion or hurt, probably both, he figured. Rubbing his thumbs against the insides of her wrists, he tried to soothe her as he continued. "If we did this…" he explained in a soft, raspy voice, "I– I couldn't leave you after… And I gotta. I gotta go back."

He didn't tell her why, but she seemed to understand; he had other obligations, the people she left behind. Her eyes softened and she smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. Nodding at him, Carol stepped back, out of his grasp, resuming her dutiful role, and searched for her clothes on the ground.

Daryl shouldered his shirt back on and buttoned it up with regret. This was it.

There was distance between them now; one he couldn't push through. He felt cold and bereft without her pressed against him. For half a minute he wondered what would happen to Rick and Maggie if he never returned, if he just stayed with Carol like he wanted to. Made love to her the way she deserved. But then his thoughts turned to Maggie's baby, and he realized he couldn't stay away; he needed to be there. To support Maggie. To keep the baby safe. It was a debt he owed to Glenn.

Once she was dressed, Carol moved about quickly in the small room, blowing out the candles, clearing the dishes, erasing the evidence of their last meal together. She felt robotic just going through the motions, trying to survive the tyranny of this moment; she couldn't stop to think. She couldn't let herself feel it.

Daryl watched her with a sad ache in his chest, knowing he could not provide her with any comfort. She was on her own now, just as she wanted. It was all that was left to give her.

Silently, she walked him to the door, both of them moving with heavy footsteps. It opened to the empty night, and they stepped out onto the porch. Keeping his distance, he rushed out into the fresh air, trying to forget how good it felt when she touched him and realizing he never would.

His eyes adjusted to the lack of light; without her, he saw only darkness before him. His pace slowed the farther he got, but he couldn't risk one last look at her; he knew her eyes were filling with tears, and he just couldn't bear to see her like that. One step. Two. His heart lurched in his chest and he could go no further. Turning back around, he stared longingly at her. Once again, committing her face to his memory. This woman. This warrior. She was the best part of him, of his life. He couldn't bring himself to leave her. Quickly, he ran up the steps, pulling her into a final hug goodbye.

She embraced him and they clung to each other, lamenting what would never be. He dropped his nose to her shoulder and lingered in her scent, knowing he would never forget her.

"Watch out for yourself, alright?" Daryl made her promise him as he pulled away.

Her throat was too tight; she could only nod to him as he stepped down and away from her. Carol watched him leave with regret and ambivalence, shoving her hands in her pockets to keep herself from running after him. As she turned back towards the house, she felt her heart seize. Had she made a mistake, letting this man go? She turned back towards him, wanting to follow him to the ends of the earth, but knowing this was for the best, for both their sakes. Wasn't it? He disappeared into the shadows and was gone before the answer came. A chill went down her spine so she went back into the house and cried herself to sleep.


	2. Act II

Carol awoke from a nightmare with a sharp aching in her core. The darkness crowded around her. Striking a match, she lit the lantern on the bedside table, casting the ghosts that haunted her back into the shadows.

 _What have I done?_ She thought about the night before, the pain she had put them both through. _For what?_ No matter what she did, how far away she went, it would always be with her.

It wasn't just the extraction of Daryl from her life; something else was amiss. It couldn't have been that easy to get rid of the threat from the Saviors; if she knew one thing from her miserable life, it was that nothing ever was.

The thought had her sitting up, reaching for a cigarette. Lighting it, she breathed in the noxious smoke, trying to smother the burst of worry that was rising up and twisting inside her.

"Damn it," she cursed herself. She had been a desperate fool.

Daryl had lied to her, fed her only sweet words. Of course he would, she hadn't left him any choice; she had practically begged him to. And she had swallowed them without any questions, wanting them to be true, wanting everyone to be okay so that she could be. But they weren't okay, they couldn't be. Not in this world. Why else would Jesus and Daryl have come to the Kingdom? They had been looking for back up. They needed people.

Quickly, she got out of bed and threw her jacket on. Shouldering her gun, she blew out the lantern and made her way towards the Kingdom, looking for Morgan. She needed answers.

* * *

Once the smoke cleared from the battle at Alexandria, the survivors made their rounds to check for the wounded, mourn their losses. Rick and Carl carried a wounded Michonne to the infirmary where Tara tended to her wounds. Jesus and Maggie made preparations for Sasha's body to be transported to Hilltop to be laid to rest near Abraham's remains. But Gabriel would still say a few words in remembrance as soon as they could all come together.

Upon shedding her armor, Carol lingered on the steps outside with her gun at her hip. Morgan was deep in thought; she knew he was trying to come to some place of acceptance, like she was, about the things they had to do. Her time in the Kingdom had helped her to realize an important truth. They belonged here, among the living—together—trying to make a life worth living. To carve out an existence that was about more than just surviving. To really live with whatever time they had left. They had to make their losses matter, make the best of the sacrifices. To honor their dead by going on. There would be times of peace, but they needed to fight for it.

"We can do this," said Carol, mustering the confidence. She reached out and took his hand in hers. "For them."

Morgan turned to her, the guilt he carried evident in his long face. He smiled sadly, his eyes a woeful brown. "Sorry again about knocking you out."

Carol almost laughed after all they'd been through together. "You said I was your favorite," she teased, bringing some light back to his eyes.

She swatted her hand at him, dispelling the tension. "Bygones."

"I was just wondering what my Jenny would have said about all this. If she had— if she had lived to see it."

Carol's smile faded slightly. "She would have understood, she would have fought too for the things she believed in, because she loved you." She squeezed his hand and released it.

Morgan nodded slowly in acknowledgement, something new dawning across his appearance. A burdensome weight was beginning to shift.

Ezekiel approached them with a majestic stride. "Carol, you are a magnificent champion. With you by our side, the Kingdom shall certainly be avenged."

Carol rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a drama— _king_."

"Feisty! It seems Shiva now has some competition." He chuckled jovially. "Don't dishearten, Carol, I shall find some chocolate to your liking. It is my vow to you, fair maiden, that the well be replenished generously to your satisfaction."

Exasperated, Carol threw up her hands at him, hiding her smile at his theatrics.

Ezekiel turned to Morgan, his brown eyes beaming with amusement. "Yes, indeed Morgan. Together, we fight on for this new day. Full, festive, faithful, and free. And now," he bowed towards Carol, " _feisty_."

After making his rounds, checking that the perimeter of Alexandria was secure, Daryl headed back towards the center of town. He had seen Carol arrive through the haze of gunfire, saving them again, along with the Kingdom and Hilltop. It had been a welcomed surprise, reviving him, strengthening the attack on the Saviors, just as he was beginning to lose hope. Thankfully, she hadn't been among the dead or wounded, but he still felt just as desperate to find her. Up and down the streets he searched for her, longing to see her, to touch her—to smell her—wondering where she was hiding out. Finally, he spotted her near the infirmary, talking to Morgan and Ezekiel, and quickened his pace.

"Thanks for comin'," he said to Ezekiel upon his approach, knowing that Rick would have done the same if he'd not been otherwise preoccupied. He extended his hand to the man.

"The time for sitting things out has come to an abrupt end, my friend," Ezekiel stated assuredly, shaking Daryl's hand. "The Kingdom shall fight the good fight with Alexandria."

"What changed your mind?" Daryl looked at Carol and Morgan, wondering what they might have said to convince him.

"You," Carol said with a tearful smile, standing up and stepping forward to hug him.

Stunned by the sudden feel of her crashing into him, enveloping him in her warmth, Daryl hesitated before letting himself wrap his arms around her. He let out a sigh as he buried his face in her neck, then breathed her in. She was home.

Offering them a more private reunion, Morgan cleared his throat and guided Ezekiel towards the infirmary. "You can tear it out and cut it down. You can burn it and throw it all away. But there's nothing more precious than watching it bloom and return," Ezekiel expounded joyfully.

A crease in his brow, Morgan seemed baffled by the riddle.

Ezekiel grinned, patting Morgan on the shoulder as the two walked away. "Hope," he clarified, looking back at the couple embracing. "May it always guide us."

Clinging to Carol, Daryl took another deep breath, feeling a lump hardening in his throat. After he left the Kingdom for Hilltop, Daryl hadn't really allowed himself to think about how much he missed her; a skill learned long ago. The pain had just been too raw. There had been more than enough going on at Hilltop to provide him with sufficient distraction. It was only at night, when he was idle and alone, that Daryl was haunted by the feel of her gentle fingers ghosting on his skin. But seeing her again—feeling her in his arms—was quite overwhelming; the relief from all his suppressed emotions flooded his eyes.

"Didn't think I'd see you again," he admitted when he felt like he could speak again.

"I know," she said, sniffling. She was trembling too.

He tightened his arms around her, steadying them both.

"It wasn't until after you left that I'd realized what a fool I was. I'm sorry." She squeezed him as she sobbed.

It was then he knew she'd found out about Glenn and Abraham. His eyes grew more sodden and he rubbed his hands up and down her back in soothing strokes, comforting them both. He was glad she hadn't been there to see it.

Carol pulled away to look at him, still holding him by the arms. "Morgan told me they had kept you prisoner. If I had known, I would have—"

"I know," he interrupted, wiping her tears while ignoring his own. He saw the guilt on her face and his heart seized in his chest. None of it was her fault; he didn't want her taking any responsibility for what had happened. "Shh," he assuaged her, gathering her in his arms again. Even as he held her, he couldn't believe she was standing there with him. He pulled back just enough to see her blue eyes with his own, touching her cheek to make sure she was real. "I didn't want you to… I just wanted you to be okay."

"I _know_. You gave me the space I thought I needed. But it just made everything more clear," she said, brushing away the fringe of hair that fell across his eyes. "I loved you for that. I love you," she corrected herself.

There was an intensity in her eyes as she looked at him, but his gaze didn't falter. "You fight for those you love," she continued, thumbing away his tears. "I had to remember that. And then I knew I wasn't lost at all."

Without warning, he kissed her. Boldly and without shame. Embraced her under the wide open sky, claiming her in front of everyone. He felt her fingers threading through his hair, sending tingling currents of energy down his neck, restoring him.

When he was out of breath, he stopped to rest his forehead against hers. "Sorry, I've been thinkin' about doin' that since I saw you last. Couldn't wait any longer."

"Did you hear me complaining?" She kept caressing his scalp with her fingers.

"Probably shoulda done that a long time ago," he confessed.

She lifted her head up. "It's been on your mind that long, huh?"

He blushed, smiling bashfully.

"I missed you," she whispered as she watched his cheeks bloom a rosy shade.

He studied her eyes. They were still shimmering with her regret. "You're here now," his voice low with gratitude. _For how long?_ With his doubt creeping back, he left his arms wrapped around her to keep her close. It felt natural for her to be there. He didn't want to imagine the alternatives.

They stayed that way, basking in the presence of each other as time dissolved around them.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, leaning back against his embrace to reach into her bag. "I brought gifts, just to... sweeten the homecoming. Show how thankful I was."

He hummed. "As if seein' you wasn't enough?"

She smiled, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. Top shelf. Spendy.

He whistled and scratched at the scruff on his chin, growing uneasy. "What exactly did you have in mind?" Daryl wasn't sure he should drink with her. The last time he drank, his anger had gotten the best of him and turned destructive. Letting his anger loose was not something he wanted to do with her around. Nothing good would come of that.

She must have seen something on his face. "I recommend sharing."

"There's more," she said coyly.

The expression on her face made him suddenly bolder. "I hope so," he growled and kissed her again.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she quickly deepened the kiss, breaking away before it got too heated. "Hold this, please." She pressed the bottle into his hand before reaching into her bag again and plucking out a small container filled with strawberries. His favorite.

The corner of his mouth raised up as his voice quivered with appreciation. "You remembered." He wasn't that surprised, but it touched him that she had. "Are those all for me or do I have to share them, too?" he grumbled teasingly.

"They are for you to do what you'd like."

"Oh?" His eyebrow raised expectantly, eyes glinting with a touch of mischief.

Feeling suddenly warm, Carol let out a nervous giggle, noticing how his cheeks had flushed.

He shook his head, glancing at his boots as he laughed at himself. "Should probably put 'em away for later though," he said, recovering, handing her the bottle back. "Gotta go gather everyone up. Maggie wants to say somethin'."

"Alright," she said, replacing the items in her bag with large grin. "It's a date."

From behind a curtain of dark hair, he looked at her shyly, something fluttering in his gut, then nodded.

Carol's smile fell when she saw Tobin approaching from down the street and she shifted uneasily on her feet. "You go on ahead, I gotta take care of something first."

"Alright," said Daryl, feeling awkward again as he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

Heading off to the infirmary, he nodded to Tobin as he passed by.

"Carol, you came back," Daryl heard Tobin say and glanced over his shoulder to see them candidly embrace.

"Hi, Tobin," she said, hugging the man. "Can we talk?"

The door to the infirmary opened with a needling creak.

"Daryl," Tara called for him, distracting him briefly from the other reunion.

"Yeah," Daryl said, facing Tara. "I'm comin'." Turning his head again, he got a curious glimpse of Carol walking away with the other man, her hand on his arm.

"Maggie said to help you get everyone down by the guard tower."

His head snapped back. "Okay. How's Michonne?"

"A little giddy on pain killers, thanks to Hilltop. Rick's on his way out now."

* * *

They gathered up the living, first to honor their dead and the sacrifices they had made so that the survivors could go on.

"Greater love has no one but this," said Gabriel solemnly, marking the end of the memorial service, "to lay down one's life for one's friends."

As the service concluded, Daryl found himself pondering the preacher's words. He reflected on his memories of working with Sasha on the council when they were back at the prison, of ribbing each other on night shifts to help each other stay awake while they were on watch. They had been on many runs together, depended on one another. He'd fought alongside her, admired her keen focus, understood her anger. She was tough. It was rumored that Sasha had sacrificed her life to spare them. Daryl knew it was true when he heard it. He had spent enough time under Negan's thumb to know the kind of choices she'd been left with, and Sasha had chosen the hardest of them. He was sure of it.

While everyone was still gathered around, Maggie gave a big speech, uniting the forces of Alexandria with Hilltop and the Kingdom, inviting Rick and Ezekiel to speak to the crowd about their plans and answer their many questions. Afterwards, there was talk of returning to each settlement to prepare for things to come. It was a grim time, but they had hope that together they could stop Negan.

When it was over, Daryl made his way through the crowd, towards those warm blue eyes standing in the back that held his. There was a slight feeling of trepidation rumbling in his gut as he approached Carol.

"So, are you stayin' or just visitin'?" he asked warily. He wanted to know how long he had with her.

"Rick's got a handle on things here at Alexandria," she said. "But the Kingdom needs a little more work. They've been sheltered from all this and need more training for things to come."

Nodding remotely, he expected as much. Of course she wasn't staying. He grew anxious, wondering how he fit into her life.

"Carol tells me you're quite the skilled woodsman," Ezekiel boomed beside him. "Tracking, hunting, fighting, setting traps. All around superhero. We could use that knowledge, if you're willing to impart it?"

Despite all the things he had done, it still surprised Daryl when people deliberately asked for his help, and it took a moment to register the man's request for his assistance. Leaning back on his heels, he glanced at Carol who was smiling proudly at him, her eyes sparkling brightly. He felt his chest grow warm. Knowing that Carol would be there too, his reply came easily.

"Uh, yeah," he said, rubbing at his cheek with his thumb, trying to wipe the disbelief from his face. He nodded towards Carol. "I go where she goes."

"A most excellent plan," said Ezekiel with a victorious grin, shaking Daryl's hand before departing.

His cheeks glowing, Daryl shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked casually at the dirt with his boots. "Superhero, huh?"

"His word." Carol raised her hand in a dismissive motion, deflecting the blame.

They both laughed lightly.

Making their way back to the house they shared with Rick, Carl, and Michonne, they walked into the house, holding hands as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Others had gathered there to mark Sasha's passing. _A celebration of life_ , Maggie had called it. The living room was full of survivors, not unlike the first night of their arrival in Alexandria. This time, however, faces were less grim, despite the reason for their coming together. Sasha's death had been a sign, Maggie had insisted, that they could beat the Saviors.

"Maggie," Carol said, embracing the pregnant woman with tears in her eyes. "What you said earlier. I know your father would be so proud of you."

"Thanks, Carol." Pulling back, she looked between Carol and Daryl and grinned widely. "And if Glenn were here, he would say: 'Finally!' If the hand holdin' means what I think it means?"

Daryl blushed, averting his eyes, and Carol shrugged her shoulders, smiling.

Maggie let out a little shriek of joy before hugging a crimson Daryl. "At least now there's something good to celebrate!" Releasing Daryl, she added, "Come! Join us!"

Daryl was still stunned by Maggie's acceptance of him. He had watched her whole family get murdered by others and hadn't been able to do a damn thing about any of it. She had told him he wasn't to blame for Glenn's death, but he still felt guilty. Daryl wasn't sure how he could ever make it up to her, except be there for her when the baby was born.

They'd all been through some difficult times, which made it all the more important to take time to celebrate and really be with one another. Carol took out the bottle of whiskey from her bag and handed it to Rick.

"Drink? You look like you could use one," she said.

With his hand on Carol's back, Daryl nodded in agreement. "Take a load off, man."

Fingering his beard, Rick took the bottle from Carol. "Macallan," he read aloud, clearly impressed. "Where'd you find this?"

"I may have liberated it from the Kingdom," said Carol with a sly grin, "among some other things." She rolled her eyes up, giving her best impression of innocence.

"Well, if the Kingdom is gonna take some of our best people, I say they owe us. Ezekiel told me the two of you will be leaving with them tomorrow."

Rick regarded Carol and Daryl with a warm smile, taking in how closely they were standing near one another, when the front door opened, and Tobin entered the house.

As he came in, his eyes scanned the crowd until he noticed Carol standing beside Daryl and paused. She stood straighter, slightly apprehensive as she met his eyes. Tobin acknowledged her with a nod and glanced at Daryl with a resigned acceptance, smiling sadly before he moved on, joining Tara and Rosita in the kitchen where they were pouring drinks. The blond man appeared somewhat dejected.

"Curiouser and curiouser," Rick mused as if just realizing something. "Guess I'm not the only one who needs a drink."

An awkward pause rose up between the three of them.

Rick raised his eyebrows and inclined his head in acquiescence. "I'll go get some glasses."

"I'll be right back," Carol said to both of them, excusing herself. "I see someone I haven't said hello to yet."

While Rick headed for the kitchen, Carol walked over to Carl, glancing over at Tobin on her way.

Daryl frowned, turning around.

"She seems happy," Maggie remarked, coming up to him.

Daryl looked over to see Carol holding Judith and talking animatedly to Carl and Enid. It certainly seemed true.

"The way she looks at you," Maggie continued. "It says a lot. You treat her right."

Eying Maggie with uncertainty, his shoulders sagged, wondering if he could really give Carol what she needed.

"You seem worried. What happened?" Maggie sat down on a wooden bench by the window, and indicated for him to join her.

Sitting down beside her, he tried to explain what he was feeling. He shook his head, hoping the words would fall into place. "I heard her say the words with my own ears, but…"

Daryl shrugged. "Just don't know where her head is at." He was full of doubt. He had seen Carol with Tobin earlier and was wondering what had transpired between them. Carol left, but then she came back. When would she leave him again?

"Her head? Or her heart?"

"What if there's someone else?"

"Who? Daryl, I've seen the way she looks at you. Like you're the only man in the room. You fill her with light."

He still wasn't convinced.

She scooted closer to him from where she had been sitting. "You know what Glenn did the first time I told him I loved him?" Maggie asked wistfully. "He ran off—with Rick to find my father of course—but I was so cross with him. He didn't believe me, Daryl. Didn't say anything to me about what he was feeling, just pushed me away. I thought he was going to leave me. I didn't know he was feelin' the same way until he told me. He was scared. Thought it was selfish, and that he would let y'all down if he let himself love me. He thought he couldn't have both. He had it wrong, of course, and when he realized that, he did something about it."

Daryl wondered if it was true, what she was telling him. Probably was, knowing Glenn; he always put Maggie first.

"Go to her," Maggie encouraged him, nudging his shoulder. "Talk with her. Get to the bottom of it if you think something's wrong."

"You deserve happiness, too, Daryl," Maggie declared. "You can be. Life is too short not to go after what you want. That's what my daddy told me back at the farm. After Glenn came into my life." She held her father's pocket watch in her hand. "Glenn would want you to have what we had." She took Daryl's hand and laid the watch in his palm, closing it. "Make the most of your life with the time that you have."

He examined the watch in his hand, gravely missing the men who used to carry it. He thought about how devoted Hershel and Glenn had been to people they cared about, the lessons they taught him about forgiveness. It was quite remarkable to him, that even though they were gone, they still had something to teach him.

Daryl's eyes were wet as he leaned into her and she put her arm around him, hugging him to her side. She kissed him on the forehead. "Love fearlessly. That's what Glenn would say. That's what he did."

"But the baby…"

She saw the concern in his face, his unshed tears. Touching her belly in a proud manner, she smiled.

"This baby is gonna have so much love in its life," Maggie assured him. "Look around. Remember that day at the nursery? I'll never forget it, what you did. From the day Judith was born, you've always been a great uncle. You know, me and Glenn had been talkin' before… we discussed what would happen to the baby if something happened to us. We knew it could. We both thought, if y'all agreed, that you and Carol could, you know, serve as godparents. If anything happens, and it might, it would make me feel better knowing the two of you would be lookin' out for the little one."

"You sure?"

"Mmm hmm. Certain."

"I wouldn't even know—"

"You do. You have. I've seen it with my own eyes."

Daryl smiled as he imagined it. "Kid's gonna be tough as nails."

"Absolutely. Now go. Be happy."

He nudged her arm and stood. "Thanks," he said deeply, pausing before walking away. "You're gonna be a great mom."

Maggie smiled up at him with watery eyes. "Thanks, Daryl."

Daryl moved through the room, towards Carol who was standing in the kitchen by the beverages, wiping down the counter, cleaning up a spill. But before he got there, Rick grabbed his arm as he passed by.

"Brother," he said, raising his glass unsteadily, spilling some of the liquid on the ground, "I started without you." To say Rick was a little lit was an understatement.

Daryl fought a smile. "I can see that."

"Tobin and Rosita wanted to do shots." Rick frowned. "I don't think she should have been drinking." There was a short pause as he thought about it, then shrugged.

"I love you, man," he said to Daryl, his eyes sincere if not rather pickled. He leaned in to hug Daryl soundly. "I'm gonna miss you. Both of you."

"Yeah, okay, lightweight." Daryl humored the man, patting him on the back, and then continued on until he was standing beside Carol. "World loves a happy drunk," he muttered under his breath.

"I love you," Rick said, collapsing on the sofa beside Michonne who was sitting tolerantly on the couch, watching him. "I love this woman," he announced to everyone. Cheers of congratulations went up around the room. "I love you, son," he called to Carl who was still talking with Enid in the corner.

Carl shook his head and smiled. "I love you too, Dad."

"Just look at those two over there, how cozy they are," Rick gushed, pointing at Daryl and Carol who were staring at each other affectionately. "They lo—"

Hearing enough, Michonne pulled the drink out of his hand. "Okay, I'm cutting you off."

Rick smiled lazily, snuggling up to her. "You just want your way with me."

"Oh, brother," she said calmly, rolling her eyes. "And I'm the one with the concussion. Did you eat anything today?"

While chewing on his lip, Daryl watched as Carol poured him a drink, and he accepted it without thinking. Glancing down to study the amber liquid in the glass, he swirled it around, contemplating what Maggie had just said to him.

Tilting his head, he gave Carol a pensive look and cleared his throat. "So, what was all that with Tobin?" he asked, his voice cool despite how unsettled he felt inquiring. He briefly wondered if the man had gotten his own package of strawberries.

"An honest mistake." Carol looked away quickly, embarrassed. "It's over."

"Alright," Daryl conceded, not wanting to pry. He wasn't going to force her to talk about it. Swirling his drink again, he watched the liquid slosh the sides of the glass and considered taking a sip.

Carol glanced at Daryl uneasily, knowing he deserved more of an answer. She took a sip from her glass, then let out a sigh.

"I never loved him, Daryl," she confessed, still avoiding his eyes. "I wasn't sure I was gonna stay, but I needed... comfort. So I went looking for it. Chose someone I wasn't attached to, never would be. Just needed to feel— At first, I tried to pretend I was okay, and I needed things to be easy, uncomplicated… so I could be free to go. No strings." She looked at him finally, and her eyes shined with remorse. "I couldn't tell you. It was like you told me before, if I had turned to you, and we had... I wouldn't have been able to go. And I really needed to."

It made sense to Daryl; he understood. She had been hurting, and he had no right to judge how she had dealt with her pain. He'd made plenty of bad decisions; how could he fault her for making one that she obviously regretted?

Leaning against the wall, he turned to Carol, seeing her completely, with all her imperfections. Daryl was stone cold sober, the drink in his hand, untouched and forgotten, no longer needing liquid courage to say what he felt.

"I love you," he said softly, touching her face, letting his bent finger glide across the smooth surface of her cheek.

Swallowing a lump, Carol smiled through her unshed her tears. "I've always known. But it's still nice to hear." Letting her body sink towards his, she gave him a firm kiss.

Daryl groaned his objection as she pulled away, the taste of her lingering sweetly on his lips. He wanted to be alone with her, but he knew he had to wait. Trying his best to be patient, he put his arm around her conspiratorially. "Now, where are them strawberries at?"


	3. Act III

" _Love is friendship set on fire." ~ Jeremy Taylor_

* * *

As the night wore on, people began to tire and trickle away to their own homes. After they got Rick upstairs and into bed and made sure Michonne was comfortable too, Daryl and Carol made their way down the hall to the room that Carol had vacated.

At the threshold, they lingered, staring first into the empty room, and then fixing their eyes on each other. Carol took Daryl's hand, winding her fingers around his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

An intense silence infused with a buzzing heat filled the space between them. She grinned nervously, and he stared fondly at her lips.

"So," she hinted. "Wanna pick up where we left off?"

Daryl grunted, bewildered that she didn't already know the answer to that question. Bowing his head, he searched for her lips, resigned to show her with more certainty.

Their lips met, locking together in a now familiar manner: steady, but loose. Carol tasted like strawberries, making Daryl hum with pleasure. She drew her arms around his neck, tugging him closer, kindling the embers that still smoldered inside them.

Pressing her against the doorjamb in a burst of ardor, he felt the heat from her body invigorate him. With equal gusto, she thrust herself towards him, and they spun around, his back hitting the wall as she kicked the door closed. Wedged between her heat and the coolness of the wall, Daryl felt his blood coil and constrict, galvanizing his need for more contact, springing him forward again. They grabbed and clutched at each other, compressing the surging force between them. Then they were moving through the empty space of the room as in a slow dance, the fiery rhythm picking up, heating, twirling them around.

Suddenly, the back of Daryl's legs met the foot of the bed, jostling him, and he fell backwards, sprawling on his hands. They broke apart breathlessly.

Daryl watched Carol staring back at him with a flush covering her face and wondered how far down her neck the splotches went. And as if she'd heard him, she removed her shirt, bravely discarding it on the floor, revealing her bra, stark against her fair skin. He sat up more attentively.

Indulging his eyes, Daryl felt his throat growing dry as they deliberately wandered over her flesh. His fingers itched as he remembered the feel of that black lace and the exact way her nipple had pebbled from his touch. A wave of heat rolled down the front of his body. The splotches, he had been keen to notice, covered more than just her neck.

Carol stalled, wanting Daryl to see her without any barriers, however flimsy. Concealing herself was something she could no longer do. And certainly not with Daryl's rapt attention saturating her core, turning her into butter. Slowly, tantalizingly, she reached behind her back with the grace of a swan, unclasping her bra. The material gently fell from her breasts, exposing them.

Adjusting himself in his seat, he marveled at her courage, her beauty as she stood before him. He was captivated, unable to move, robbed of his breath for a good long moment. Time seemed to still, growing diffuse, until finally he sighed. Her eyes smiled at him, so he smiled back contentedly.

She took it as a sign of approval and feeling encouraged, brought her hands to the button of her pants, unfastening them. His eyes dropped towards their movement, wiping the smile from his face as it morphed part way into a look of shock and eager expectancy simultaneously. Without meaning to, he licked his lips, and the action made Carol draw down her zipper ever so slowly, watching as his eyebrows peaked in curiosity. She felt powerful and sexy as she had never felt before.

One by one, she kicked off her boots into the corner of the room. With her thumbs crooked in the waistband of her pants, she shimmied them down just below her navel in a teasing manner. Daryl squirmed in his seat, feeling all his blood rush downwards. He gasped for air as he watched her, waiting, searching her eyes, silently begging for her to continue. He wanted to see her. All of her.

Kindly, she obliged him, letting her pants fall past her hips and down to the floor, stepping gingerly out of them to unveil her long pale legs. Only a stretch of thin black cotton remained.

Riveted, he narrowed his focus, ogling the juncture between her hip and thigh. Beneath the fabric, Daryl knew another treasure awaited. He felt himself tensing with anticipation, his fingers curling into the covers on the bed.

Carol took a step towards him, and he reached up automatically, compelled by the lure of her silky skin. His inquisitive fingers surveyed the backs of her thighs to her hips while he marveled at all her curves and lines. At the edges of her panties, he traced the boundary with miraculous restraint, feeling where the elastic met her skin with genuine appreciation for all the ways she fascinated him. She shuddered beneath his touch. He pressed his lips to her bare stomach, calming her with a kiss, cherishing this gift she had given him.

Her warm hands stroked the back of his head, sliding down to his neck, grasping his collar. Looking up, Daryl sat back, enjoying the sublime view of her towering over him like a queen. Bold and beautiful. She ruled his heart. Bending down, ravishing his lips, she commanded his body.

Like two flames, his hands scorched her skin as they spread upwards, cupping her breasts, searing her flesh as the kiss sizzled between them. She pulled at his collar, needing him closer and closer, her body aching with an undeniable thirst.

Swiftly, her hands began to unbutton his shirt as his skin hissed with pleasure from her every movement. Dragging his shirt over his shoulders, the fabric pooled at his waist until she glided her thrilling fingertips down the length of his arms and past his wrists to release him. With his hands free again, he brought them back to her body, exploring her, electrifying her, making her skin bristle into millions of tiny bumps.

Carol opened her eyes, leaning back from the kiss to admire the expanse of his bare chest, taking in the ruggedness of his shoulders and arms. She saw it then, the shock of it hollowing her, confounding her, not understanding how she could have missed it before. Maybe she hadn't wanted to see.

Roughly the size of a quarter, an angry welt protruded on Daryl's shoulder from where he had been recently shot. It filled her with dread, how close she had come to losing him. Shutting her eyes to keep the tears from spilling, she held her lips to the scar, reconciling her fears as she kissed the pain away.

He inhaled delightedly, enraptured by her tenderness. It was only after she drew away that Daryl saw the sheen of grief lingering in her eyes. "Carol—" he began, his heart catching in his chest, and then he couldn't find the words to continue.

There was nothing he could say. He couldn't undo the past or secure their future; he could only love her—now, and for the rest of his days, however many were left.

His eyes drifted to her own scars, regarding them with reverence as he silently caressed them each in turn. Arm. Thigh. Abdomen. He could only think about how strong she was. How capable. She wasn't broken in the slightest.

He took her hand and held it over his pounding heart, showing her.

"We ain't ashes," he reminded her, shaking his head. "You ain't."

Rubbing his hand over hers, he was determined to make her understand.

"Hell, woman, you're the goddamn torch."

With tears burnishing her cheeks, she chuckled tensely. Daryl smiled.

Resolving to banish the darkness, Carol clasped his hand and pulled him from the bed, inviting him to chase her thoughts away. He stood willingly, radiating warmth as he stared into her eyes, his hand coming to her face with affection, wiping her tears, comforting her, reminding her of the brilliance of a thousand suns. With a sigh, she encircled her arms around his neck, bracing herself against him, letting him restore her to life.

He kissed her forehead as they held each other tightly, both of them needing the closeness to quell their fears. Soon, she became distracted by his lips traveling across her brow, down her cheek, effectively shutting off her brain as he began to lap at her ear with his tongue. He bit her earlobe, and she lost herself once more to sensation, releasing a muted whimper as everything else fell away.

Daryl felt Carol sink into him, purring with pleasure. Her response was gratifying, heightening his own as the feeling of her breasts flush against him made his body hum and spark in return, setting fire to his blood. Her fingers tangled in his hair, gripping and tugging, inciting his arousal.

Their restless lips found each other again. His hungry hands flowed down her body, grabbing at her flesh, pulling her up against him as he sought that delicious tongues danced and mingled, stoking their passion. Sweat began to drip and pool between them. The maddening touch of her hands on his skin, made him squeeze harder, his pelvis bucking into her uncontrollably. Daryl rumbled, unleashing a ravenous growl from deep in his core.

Vibrating through her body, his roar echoed between her legs, weakening her knees. Carol trembled, and she tightened her grip on him to steady herself, her hands still frantic in their exploration. The scent of tobacco and mossy heat emanating from his feverish skin made her increasingly dizzy. Her head began to swim as she fell into rapture.

All at once, she buckled, staggering backwards, and Daryl followed clumsily, loosening his grip. Her hands accidentally swept low across his belly, and he convulsed, gasping as he pulled away from her in shock.

The surprise felt like a refreshing breeze the way it cut through the sultry air surrounding them. Catching her breath, she smirked impishly. "Ticklish?"

Daryl scoffed, kissing her fervidly to distract her.

Her persistent fingers brushed against him again, and he writhed, wiggling himself away from her.

Carol beamed triumphantly. "You are!"

"Stop," he warned her, his threat half-hearted.

"But I _like_ it."

There was heat in her gaze as she challenged him. It spurred him into action. Growling, he found her hands, wrestling them away and behind her, feeling satisfied as she pouted indignantly. The motion had her back arching, her breasts jutting proudly towards him. Smug from the glorious sight of her, he growled again, dipping his head to nibble at her neck and down across her chest in reprisal. Carol shivered, gasping for breath.

"Daryl," she called out breathlessly. The sound of it enlivening him as he licked and sucked on her flesh greedily.

Her hands broke free from his faltering grasp, grabbing him behind his ears as she pressed his head towards her.

"Daryl!" she repeated more urgently as his mouth found her breast.

With the taste of her on his tongue, he pulled her roughly against him and suckled harder, feeling his skin melting against hers. The torrid heat soared and spun, flourishing, spreading, consuming them. The thrum in his blood, making him crazed as it rushed through him.

She cried out, and he released her, panicked by his actions, wondering if he'd hurt her.

Instead of complaining, her fingers flew to the fly of his jeans which she quickly unfastened in his confusion, drawing the zipper down the hardened length of him before he could protest. His pants fell to his knees, held up by the rope he had tied around his ankles to keep his pant legs secured. He felt alarmingly exposed, his thoughts in disarray as his blood hammered in his ears.

Carol knelt down, trying to untie them as he stood there floundering, overwhelmed at the sudden pace of everything. She giggled as she fumbled, searching for the ends.

"A little help here?" She looked up at him, the mirth shining in her eyes. It settled him.

Seeing her on her knees made him uncomfortable, so he dropped to the bed with a bounce, letting Carol remove his boots as she stared at him longingly. Reaching behind his calves, he found the knots and loosened them, allowing her to yank his pants the rest of the way off, finally freeing him. Then she joined him on the bed.

Some of the heat had dissipated, making the moment feel less urgent. Daryl felt grateful, but grew nervous as the salience of what they were doing suddenly became clear. He paused, touching her cheek as he gazed into her eyes with some uncertainty, his nakedness only heightening his feeling of vulnerability.

Carol reclined on the bed, coaxing him, drawing him down towards her, kissing him lightly, tenderly, her soft hands stroking his skin. Some of the tension in his body began to recede as she caressed him. As Daryl relaxed, he let his hands glide over her curves, matching her gentleness, her throaty moans encouraging him to slip his tentative fingers between her thighs, seeking for her cache of heat.

His fingers glided over her, sending ripples of pleasure straight to her core, liquefying her. Somehow, she found the strength to wiggle out of her panties, baring herself completely to him. It seemed to give him a little more confidence and he rolled her on top of him. Skin on skin, their hearts raced together as they kissed and discovered one another.

His desire for her keeping him on edge, Daryl suddenly pulled away, needing to see her, a question in his eyes.

Carol saw him hesitating, the unspoken worry etched into his brow. _Of course_ , she thought.

"I'll stay with you," she promised, her voice barely above a whisper, reaching for his cheek to reassure him. " _Always_."

Hair of silver, heart of gold, eyes too blue for this mad world, Carol was like an angel bathed in starlight, Daryl would recall later, her skin alight and glowing. Her breasts full and round, humbly bowing towards him, dusky nipples heralding her devotion. She was the most exquisite creature on earth. And she loved him.

His face softened, eyes swelling in acceptance; he believed her. Kissing her with more tenacity than before, he relinquished his doubts, surrendering to her completely.

Driven by desire, guided by hope, his kiss fueled the flames already carried in their hearts, dissolving their remaining fears. Effusive and blazing, their love burned through their flesh as they joined their bodies and melded into one. Flowing together, flaring and billowing, they ascended on waves of bliss, calling out their ecstasy in unison. Two souls inseparably welded; they were finally together, in all ways, stronger than they ever were apart.


End file.
